


viva voce

by Feyre



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, tags will be updated as i write lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feyre/pseuds/Feyre
Summary: [Drabble Collection] The clock on his nightstand blinks three am, and Tooru is too scared to close his eyes, too scared to fall asleep and succumb to his nightmares.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **things you said at 3 am**

There is a buzz of anxiety that runs through his veins and seeps deep into his bones. It has become a companion of sorts, a lingering nightmare that grips the edge of his consciousness and taints his vision - a monstrosity that bares its teeth at his weakest, at his strongest, at his most vulnerable. 

 

He feels himself drenched with sweat when he comes to his senses, hands balled tightly around his bedsheets. He’s panting, gasping for air as he lies on his sides. His eyes are open, but visions of falling volleyballs, quiet tears and shaking shoulders of his teammates are imprinted in his mind. 

 

Tooru sits up on his bed, tucks himself up into a small ball and leans against his wall. He hasn’t cried after the loss against Karasuno; won’t cry, isn’t  _ allowed _ to cry. Because the loss was his fault, a reflection of his inability as a captain. Two years of losses against Shiratorizawa, one year of loss against Karasuno, and zero years for redemption. 

 

The setter squeezes his eyes shut, wraps his arms around himself as if the act would protect himself from the nightmares that haunt his mind. His muscles aches at the memory of Karasuno game from earlier, and Tooru prays for lethargy to take hold of his mind and lull him into a dreamless sleep.

 

He can’t sleep. 

 

The clock on his nightstand blinks three am, and Tooru is too scared to close his eyes, too scared to fall asleep and succumb to his nightmares. A hand reaches out for his phone, and he reads his notifications for the first time after the loss. His inbox is filled with condolences and menial chatter, but there is a distinct lack of messages from his teammates. 

 

Tooru feels the gaping hole in his heart widen, wonders if anyone else on the team is as broken up over the loss as he is. A thumb idly slides over the screen of his phone, messages flickering across the screen. The onslaught of unread messages ends at a familiar name:  _ Iwa-chan _ , paired with a silly emoticon that he knows annoys the other to no end.

 

_ 0 unread messages. _

 

He wonders why Hajime hasn’t messaged him, why - but no, it’s obvious. The ace of the team was always more open, more honest about his feelings than Tooru. It has always been Tooru, with his unbreakable poker face and Hajime with his freely expressed emotions. He wonders if calling Hajime at this time was a good idea, knows that Hajime is irritable when woken up and will probably scream at him, but anything is better than succumbing himself to his own dark thoughts. 

 

He presses the dial button, listens to the monotone drone of tones as he waits for his best friend to pick up. It goes on long enough for him to contemplate hanging up, until he hears a click. 

 

“Ah, Iwa-chan! Good morning,” Tooru croons into the phone, knows perfectly well that the man on the other side would have been sound asleep. Hajime had always been one for early nights and early mornings, a habit that Tooru has never been able to comprehend. 

 

He waits for the scolding that he  _ knows _ will come yelling across the phone. 

 

There is a pause, the shuffles of bedsheets likening to static in the phone speaker. The scolding never comes. Instead, it’s a mumbled “Oikawa? Why are you awake?” 

 

“Ah, well, you see, I took a -” 

 

He’s interrupted by a soft sigh, and his words falter. What comes next is nothing close to what he expects.

 

“No one blames you, Tooru.” 

 

His breath hitches, and he clenches his fingers in his duvet cover. Wonders if it’d be okay to start crying now. 

 

“We’re all grateful to have you as a captain, Tooru,” Hajime continues in a soft voice, “Thank you for a wonderful season.” 

 

Tooru says nothing; he knows that his voice will betray the tears that have started gathering at the corners of his eyes. He’s cried in front of Hajime countless of times, but for once, he feels as if he’s undeserving. 

 

But there’s only so much he can hold back, and it isn’t long until he feels hot tears trailing down his face. 

 

“I-Iwa-chan…” he stutters, voice thick from attempting to keep it steady. “Do you...do you mind if we just stay in call for a while?” 

 

His answer comes in the form of a grunt of affirmation and more shuffling of covers and bedsheets. Tooru grabs at his own covers and wraps himself in it, finally lets the tears he’s been trying so hard to hold back fall, fall, fall. 

 

But there is comfort in the static silence that comes from the phone, in the steady breathing from Hajime who has already fallen back asleep. And although his shoulders are shaking and his vision is blurry, he no longer feels the heavy weight of anxiety and worry that had plagued just a few moments before. 

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the most self-indulgent series of drabbles lmao. if you liked it, please leave a kudo/comment; they feed my soul o u o 
> 
> you can also find me @torikagos on twitter/tumblr! i love meeting new people so come talk to me o/~


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